With one hand gripping the wheel, he used the other to yank the tie from around his neck. As he pulled into the garage below Dillon’s building, he shrugged out of his suit jacket, paid the parking fee, and shot into a parking spot. After swinging open the door and slamming it closed, Gavin made his way to the elevator and hit the button to Dillon’s floor.
Gavin was no longer fighting a fucked up battle in his head. He rolled his sleeves up and sank deep into an eerie sea of calm. He was feeding his body what it craved, what it needed, and because of this, he felt high. Drugged. As he rode up to the fifteenth floor, specks and shadows of Emily’s face curled through his thoughts. His heart sank as he glanced at his watch. The thought of her sitting at the café waiting for him, completely unaware of what he was about to do, bothered him. However, he couldn’t stop.
Gavin broke from the elevator when the doors opened, stepping out into a shitload of commotion. It was something he was used to seeing. Wearing cheap suits from eBay and ties their grandmothers had bought them for their twenty-first birthdays, young, money-hungry cubs paced the bullpen in front of their cubicles. With Bluetooth receivers in their ears and polished wealth on the other end of the line, they talked fast, attempting to rip a piece of meat from a portfolio holding more cash than they’d make over the course of a lifetime. They jutted their chins up in greeting and Gavin knew a couple of them recognized him when he breezed through the chaos. He simply nodded back. None of them would end their calls from the potential stack of money they were trying for. Considering he’d only shared a beer or two with them through the years when Dillon invited him out, Gavin really didn’t give a shit if they ended their conversations to stop and say hello or not. His focus was on the door in the left corner of the massive office. Behind it was the piece of meat Gavin was about to tear into. No longer calm, the closer he got, Gavin felt his unfed hunger splitting his stomach in two.
“Hey, Gavin,” a familiar female voice purred.
He dragged his attention from the door holding his lunch beyond it, but his feet never stopped moving. “Hey, Kimberly. Is he in his office?”
The busty blonde nodded. “He sure is.”
“Good,” he clipped, rounding the corner of her desk.
As he approached Dillon’s door, Gavin ducked his towering six foot three inch frame in an attempt to see below mini-blinds covering up half the glass. Gavin’s eyes landed on Dillon’s back. He stood in front of his desk, his arms crossed. In one swift motion, Gavin swung open the door and closed it. In another, he twisted the lock, sealing them off from anyone who might try to enter.
Let the motherfucking games begin.
Without turning, Dillon blew out an annoyed puff of air. “Kimberly, how many times over the last few months have I told you I’m not fucking you in here anymore? Go back to your desk, and I’ll call you later if I feel like it.”
“It’s not Kimberly, asshole,” Gavin growled. His eyes zeroed in on Dillon when he turned around. “I told you I’d kill you with my bare hands if you ever touched her again.”
Narrowing his eyes, Dillon opened his mouth, but before words could tumble out, Gavin charged him, tackling him onto the desk. Though mammoth, the solid piece of cherry wood screeched a few inches from the weight of the two men landing on it. With Dillon pinned beneath him, Gavin curled his hands around his neck, barely noticing the blow from Dillon’s fist slamming against his mouth. Blood from his split lip dropped onto Dillon’s cheek, sliding down to his chin. As Gavin stared into the soulless eyes of a man he’d considered a friend at one point, flashes of Emily receiving his brutal treatment made adrenaline spike through Gavin’s veins. His anger simmered, and Gavin had no intention of stopping it from erupting.
Hands wrapped around Dillon’s throat, Gavin lifted up his head and shoved it back down against the desk. It hit the surface with a hard thud. Gavin was sure he’d cracked Dillon’s skull open. “You *!” Gavin spewed, his body shaking. “I told you I’d fucking kill you if you hurt her!”
“Fuck you and her!” Dillon choked out, squirming under Gavin’s weight.
Gavin squeezed harder, his grip tightening to the point he could feel Dillon’s pulse hammering against his thumbs. At this, Dillon brought his arms up and circled his fists around Gavin’s forearms in a lame attempt to pull Gavin’s hands from his neck. It didn’t work, and it only pissed Gavin off more. Gavin slammed his head against the desk again. After the second, possible skull-cracking blow, Gavin heard Dillon inhale sharply as he fought to breathe. Gavin also heard his own blood rushing through his ears. Dillon released his hold on one of Gavin’s arms and swung again, but this time there was no speed in it. It was easy enough for Gavin to dodge. Gavin could feel him weakening beneath him. Felt him slipping away as he stared into Gavin’s eyes. Gavin watched Dillon’s capillaries pop to the surface, turning his face a light shade of blue.
And then it hit him.